A/N:Yay! New story. Another Humor/Parody one... I do enjoy writing these. Please expect a ton of Twilight-bashing. I don't own either world. Please R&R. Yes, I need to concentrate on one story at a time. Now stop reading the formalities and just read the story -
Chapter 1: Um... Was That Supposed to Happen?
Sybill Trelawney leaned over the crystal ball, her impossibly thick glasses flashing in the twilight streaming in through the open window. She stuck her tongue out slightly in an effort to concentrate, mouthing strange words to herself.
It was a Tuesday, she was almost sure of that, and, in retrospect of last night, she had decided never to go to the Three Broomsticks on a school night, ever again.
That last drinking competition with Flitwick had just been too much - seriously, who could have known how much Firewhiskey a little man like him could have drunk in ten minutes.
Trelawney pushed an elbow up onto her table in an effort to keep herself from falling over. Tugging at her coat (imported troll tweed, of course), she widened her eyes, desperately trying to see anything, anything at all, in the swirling, silver, misty, murky, endless, gleaming, luminescent, fuzzy ball.
Nothing.
Trelawney groaned and smacked her head down onto the table, gaining several strange looks from her young Ravenclaw students. She waved them off without looking up.
"Class is dismissed," she finally whispered, probing the inside of her dry mouth with her tongue.
Instantly all the Ravenclaws were staring at her.
"Professor Trelawney," one of them began timidly.
Trelawney grunted in response, her head pounding.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Trelawney stumbled to her feet, swinging her arms in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, to walk over to where she thought the voice was, and placed her hand on someone's head.
"Yes, yes, I'm feeling quite alright, dear," she murmured. "It's just... I was out into the wee hours of the morning, gazing and - er - unravelling the mysteries of - um - someone's past."
"Whose?" someone to her left asked curiously.
"Time will reveal all, my dear," Trelawney said by way of answer, feeling her stomach roll. "Dismissed."
The Ravenclaws idly collected their things and left, muttering to each other about whether or not their professor could actually do that.
Trelawney smiled blankly at them, occasionally stopping one or two children to burden them with predictions.
"Your next lesson will be prosperous, Jill, oh! Most prosperous indeed!"
"Henri! My dear boy, I'm afraid you're in great danger! You'll have to be very careful when in the presence of cream pies and Pumpkin Pasties, from now on - I see a pastry bringing about your downfall. Good luck!"
And so on, and so forth. As the last student left the classroom with a raised eyebrow, due to a particularly nasty prediction about nightmares concerning possessed food coming true, Trelawney rushed to the nearest pile of parchment and emptied her stomach of its contents.
"Never... again," she wailed in between heaves. Just as her retching began to slow, none other than Professor Filius Flitwick waddled in.
"Sybill, I wanted to congr- oh, my. If this is a bad time, I can come back later," he squeaked, as he caught sight of her unsightly chunks, now proceeding to stain the parchment a merry shade of watered-down red.
Trelawney straightened up, wiping from her mouth the last strains of vomit. "No, no - my dear Filius, aren't we always in bad times?"
"Erm... indeed." He eyed the parchment behind her warily, with the air of one about to run screaming out of the room. "Well, what I came up here to say was that even though I did win the wager, I would like to present you with a token of my appreciation that you - took part." With that, he handed her a cage.
She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the creature within. "What is this strange beast?"
"YO MAMA!"
Trelawney shrieked and threw the cage backwards. "It - it - it... talked!"
"Yes..." Flitwick rushed to the other side of the room and picked up the cage gingerly. "Sybill, this is a Pygmy Puff. A new breed actually, considerably better than the old one-"
"HELL YEAH!" the fluffy creature within shouted.
"-mainly, because, it possesses the power of speech. Of course, if you don't want it, Minerva was admiring it in the hallway... Sybill?"
Trelawney leaned away from the Pygmy Puff, her eyes widened. "Ev...il. EEV...ILLLL! The beast shall bring about the ones with the fangs. THE FANNNNNGGS!"
"Sorry?"
"Hmm? Were you saying something, Filius? You must speak up if you wish for your sound to reach me - I'm rather tall compared to you." Trelawney stared at him, a faint smile ghosting her face.
"Oh, nothing, Sybill." Flitwick swallowed. "I'll just leave you two to get acquainted, then." He lifted the Pygmy Puff - who had closed its eyes, suddenly - out of its cage and placed it on her desk, considerably far away from the vomited-on parchments.
Trelawney glanced down at the currently silent Pygmy Puff, next to her. It cracked open an eye (startling green) and hissed, "WHAT'RE YOU LOOKIN' AT?"
Trelawney shrieked again, and slammed a heavy book on top of it.
"Sybill!" cried Flitwick. "No hitting it with blunt objects!"
She pursed her lips, and looked at the moaning Puff that was rolling around the desk. ('Oh, it hurts. Oh, the pain. Goodbye, cruel world. Farewell. I am off to join the choir invisible, jumped off the mortal coil, I am an ex-Puff.' Etcetera.)
"Are you sure I cannot hit it, Fillius?" she asked, quickly moving a bottle of Firewhiskey (something she did not even want to think about, let alone touch) from the Pygmy Puff's collision path.
"Quite sure. And don't put it in a bath, either," he added darkly. "You don't want to know the consequences."
"Food requirements?" she asked suddenly.
"Nothing in particular. Anything you have, really." Flitwick made his way to the door. "Goodbye, Sybill."
But Trelawney had already turned to her new pet. "So, erm, what is your name?"
"YO MAMA!"
"Oh, dear."
!~~!
"Cleopatris, please stop," Trelawney pleaded.
"IT'S ALL GOOD IN THE HOOD!" the lilac Puff shrieked, rolling across the floor. It laughed and giggled to itself, snarling fiercely at invisible, imaginary creatures every now and again.
"But - but - well, I promise that - that... I'll give you food!" she tried weakly, leaning against a sun-warmed pillar with a hand on her brow. One with the Sight did not need to deal with this.
"ALRIGHT! I'M HUNGRY FOR FOOD, LIKE HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS!" Cleopatris yelled.
Trelawney wondered suddenly what her students would think of her new pet. It was no matter, she decided equally as suddenly, and began rummaging about her office for food.
As one who possessed the Sight, she rarely found the need to eat food... and yet, there had to be something edible around here.
She sighed, and, seeing no other option, grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey on her desk and proffered it to the Puff.
"Here, my dear," she cooed. "Quench your thirst with this."
Cleopatris took the bottle in his small furry hands - hands? - and in one swift move, smashed the top open on the floor.
Trelawney watched, subdued, as the Pygmy Puff grasped the bottle firmly and downed it in three gulps.
"MMMM! FINGER-LICKIN' GOOD!"
"I'm sorry?" she asked, knitting her brows together in confusion. "'Finger-licking'?"
"S'ALL GOOD, WOMAN! DAT DRINK BRUNG DA FIRE TO MA BELLY?" It rubbed - or tried to rub, as its arms were far too short to reach - its stomach in content.
"Well, as long as you're happy, I suppose. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and prepare-"
"OOH! WANDY!" Cleopatris leaped up onto her shoulder.
"Yes, that is my wand, but I'm afraid that I have need of it-"
"MINE!" With that, the Puff leaned down and yanked Trelawney's wand out of her grip.
"No - stop -" she tried desperately to regain her wand.
"ALLEY-OOP SODIE-POP VAMPY-WITCHY COLLIEO MAMAMAMA. MUHAHAHA!" the Pygmy Puff ended in a shriek of maniacal laughter. Trelawney's wand, beech with a unicorn hair core, sparked, spluttered and made a popping noise.
Trelawney froze, terrified of the consequences. That wasn't even a proper spell!
"My dear - I would ask you to give me my wand - before something terrible happens-"
Cleopatris smiled a toothy grin at her. Trelawney's eyes bugged out in shock as his white leer grew, and grew, and grew.
The world shook, and sparks of red, white and gold flew past her. Trelawney stumbled backwards and tripped over something. Her glasses tumbled off her nose - she would have stuck her hand out and tried to have caught them, but by then her vision was filled with that of white - white - white...
And through all of the shaking and the white and the blurring, there was one thing she could hear clearly:
"YO MAMA!"